


Spy Fiction

by MissAndry



Category: Gunpoint (Video Game)
Genre: Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-30
Updated: 2014-11-30
Packaged: 2018-02-27 13:21:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,541
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2694596
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MissAndry/pseuds/MissAndry
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Conway is a huge book nerd, Hightower looks great in a dress, and everybody likes a good cheesy romp in the moonlight.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Spy Fiction

From the age of eight when he got his first junior-level mystery novel about a cat that was part Sherlock Holmes and part James Bond, Conway had always been a huge nerd for spy fiction and spy paraphernalia. Movies, books, history, anything related to spies tickled him immensely. He grew up consuming that stuff and making adults feel uncomfortable by proclaiming he wanted to be one, uncomfortable because in the climate of East Point that was tantamount to saying you wanted to become a hitman. When he got older and pubescent his fascination with spies spread out from its crossover with mystery genres and into spy-centric romance novels. He began to fantasize about being swept up in the arms of a dashing tuxedo-clad fella under the moonlight. It was a while until he also realised he could _be_ the dashing tuxedo-clad spy.

That realization led him to quit high-school and set out on his new dream: to ascend fanboyism and _become the spy_. Being lucky enough to be born and raised in one of the dirtiest towns in the country that already had a plethora of entry-level jobs needed doing, it wasn’t actually that difficult to start up. He started off with jobs that didn’t require specialist tools or a disguise-- sometimes he would have to merely pass on information by mouth, sometimes he would just need to listen in on something as an unfamiliar face in a crowd. Before long he was able to purchase a very professional looking set of work clothes, but they didn’t leave him particularly suited to not standing out so he had to start working jobs that required shadow. Tailing, shakedowns, that kind of thing. The community was surprisingly supportive, often employers were able to give him helpful advice as a tip for doing the menial work. Other low-level freelance agents weren’t even territorial because there were so many jobs to go around, although he heard through the grapevine that super experienced agents would fight over lucrative high-end jobs.

Becoming a secret agent person was the best thing he’d ever done. But realising his dream didn’t dampen his appreciation of the fictional world whatsoever. He still consumed everything he could get his hands on. His favorite happened to be romance novels. There was a particular author he adored above all. Their work always felt so alive. It felt like the plots could really happen to him at any moment on the field. Even the author was exciting, as they were published without a name attached. Only the series title linked the books together; _Gunpoint_.

Then the Delgado incident happened. His first time being thrust into corporate level espionage, and infiltration. It was a little more stressful and personal than usual, as one can imagine. The aftermath left him with a huge torso-tall bruise on his back and the need to drink and read a lot. And move apartments. And relax with some _Gunpoint_. But as he went on he stopped reading, merely staring at the concoction of words and thinking back on the week. Particularly the climax. Getting thrown out of a multi-story window tends to leave you breathless, but his heart had stopped for extra reasons that night. Plummeting down while looking up at the moon, his foes hat with starlight gleaming off of it, caught between the instinctive sense of danger and the shock of being embraced in the heat of the moment… dang. He couldn’t forget that. Granted, the embracer had been trying to kill him by keeping him on the underside but that wasn’t a turn-off, lots of his fictions involved falling in love with your mark or your killer. He couldn’t help but find it exciting.

Life didn’t go back to normal. He had taken down a pretty big fish and the pond had noticed. He was getting higher profile jobs thrown his way. Bigger pay. Some more questionable propositions. This was all dandy, but at the same time he was frustrated because news had reached him that while Gessler was in orange pajamas, the agent Conway had butted heads with had apparently recovered from their brutal punching (okay it might not have been that brutal, it only knocked them out because he fell on the pavement) and gotten away because they weren’t mentioned at all. Not by the news and when he pulled Mayfield’s attention for half a minute, he didn’t know jack either and was disgruntled that the trigger had vamoosed. It troubled Conway that the killer had gotten away as well. He was partly alright with it since Gessler had put out the order, but also concerned they might be salty about the incident. He hadn’t made enemies until the Delgado incident.

Still, life went on and it went on great. Not a couple weeks after the Intex raid Conway was pleased to find he had been charged for and delivered a new installment of Gunpoint by the GP Fanclub, who distributed copies to fans automatically on every new release. Of which there were usually one every month or so-- the books tended to be up to 100 pages and not much more. He was delighted to receive it but he wasn’t able to frantically absorb it (and then re-read it, and then again) as he had to respond to an urgent request. And honestly, he thought the request might have been nearly as exciting as the book.

It was that he had to attend a fancy dress party. Clothes provided of course. That was an amazing request. He and a date (also provided) were to peruse the floor and investigate to find and stop someone who was apparently supposed to crash the party in order to steal something; something the employer asked he didn’t ask about but he claimed it was a valuable personal item. The idea was that Conway would find this person before they saw the item, thus waiting at the door to the treasury wasn’t an option supposedly. Conway didn’t question it because he was already geeking out about going to do some classic secret agent spy stuff. He glided across his apartment, trenchcoat swinging around his legs like he were wearing a ballgown, and then he chilled and grabbed his railcard and set out to the ritziest part of East Point… an office building with balloons tied to the railings outside the door. Not exactly the classy fantasy but it would do. He supposed he wasn’t protecting a giant gemstone and probably just some prototype or blueprint or something.

He ducked in the backdoor that his confident said he would find his clothes and his date. Of course, the date part struck him as being quite important to set the mood and he was crossing his fingers to get a good one. He didn’t even know what he wanted. A studmuffin? An elegant lady? Gosh. When he got inside he saw the clothes draped over a chair and headed towards them, but out of the corner of his eye he caught them-- his partner dressing up for work in a modest black dress and shawl. Conway wondered if those earrings had been provided or they brought them with, they wrapped around the whole lobe and up the side elegantly. Their hair was a mess of short blonde curls adorned with a large metal clip. Most of their forearms were covered by the shawl but a sleeve tattoo peeked out, though Conway couldn’t tell what it was.

He greeted them but they just directed him towards his clothes and he acquiesced, donning a simple black tie suit but casually leaving he tie out (because he didn’t know how to wear it) and the front unbuttoned because his employer hadn’t been aware of his baby fat. When he was ready he found his partner waiting at the backdoor, where they would proceed to round to the front of the building and enter incognito. The lady with the guestlist asked for their names.

“Richard Conway,” came the natural answer, hoping to hell that that was the name he was supposed to use.

“And his plus one, Annie Conway,” the date smiled cutely at the admissions woman until she looked down at the list, at which point their fake smile dropped instantly into the serious one they had worn all the rest of the time. _What a professional_ , Conway thought. He had to assume they were a freelance agent too at this point. Their names checked out and they sauntered in, and “Annie” breathed a deep sigh.

“You shouldn’t use your real name, you know,” they berated.

“Are you implying you aren’t called Annie Conway?” That elicited a chuckle from the nameless date. It was kind of cool of them. Conway got the impression this person considered themselves his superior and he was quite okay with that. They were acting very together and experienced. Not totally geeking out about the situation at all, like Conway was, jittering and looking way too pleased to be here.

They moved into a reception where all the usual trimmings of food and decor were laid out and both of them started profiling the crowd. If there was someone acting suspicious it would be tough to know what it looked like. Annie tugged Conway around where they could join in on a big conversation, and immediately inject themselves into its flow. Conway was alright with being arm candy and scouting around with his eyeballs some more. Eventually a series of speeches were to be made and Annie pulled Conway to the back of the room in a private bit of space.

“Well I spotted a couple people who are cheating on their spouses and someone who was sweating when a mysterious incident in the office involving the communal coffee maker was brought up, but nobody who seems to be looking for a chance to thieve something.”

Conway harumphed. “I noticed a lady looking at the bathroom every few minutes. That’s kinda weird. But I doubt the mystery item is in the can.”

“That’s a good eye though. Good job.”

“Oh,” Conway’s mouth twitched at the corners, “Thank you.”

They continued to merely survey the area until the boring speeches were over and everyone was directed to a cleared area meant to pose as a ballroom, with the rental DJ and all ready to go. The crowds headed in and the dancing portio started. Conway’s jitters came back and he was rocking back and forth a bit to the music a bit as he spied on people, mostly non-dancers and loners. But then his ears perked up as _A Night Like This_ came on and _oooh_ he couldn’t hold it in. He turned on Annie and shook their arm and tugged like an excited child.

“Dance with me,” Conway said breathlessly. Annie groaned and shook their head just slightly. But Conway made the puppydog face. Annie looked around, looking like they were in disbelief and someone would come tell them this nerd was a joke. Conway ushered them to the floor without proper consent. He wasn’t a grade-A dancer but he made up for it in enthusiasm, pulling Annie into an embrace where he realised they were inches taller than him. Annie gave in, shaking their head and laughing softly but giving a look that said you’re unbelievable, to be returned by one that said shut up. In a nice way. They put their arms over Conway’s shoulders and he rocked them both back and forth, even pulling Annie onto one foot or another. The blonde mass of hair swayed side to side and Conway noticed it was a wig. That was kind of cool.

“Any suspicious folk behind me?” Annie asked. Conway hummed dreamily for a moment but then snapped back into reality. He looked around the side of the room only he could see. Now that they mentioned it, there was a woman standing around a particular door for a while not talking to anyone but watching everyone. Luckily Conway seemed to have escaped her radar over Annie’s shoulder and he caught her leaving the temporary ballroom. He urgently told Annie and they moved to leave the floor as unsuspect as possible.

When the woman heard them open the door she swore loudly and started running, both agents quickly chasing but Conway making the lead. Annie swore and stopped to take off their heeled shoes, but urged Conway that they would catch up. He charged onwards but he hit a dead end. Confused, he backed up and checked a nearby room and realised the rooms were interconnected by doors and not just the hallway, and one was wide open and showing the way backwards. _Juked_.

He charged back down the building through the series of rooms until finally he met back up with his prey, and Annie who had obviously intercepted the woman. Lucky. Except not, because the woman had tugged off Annie’s wig and was now attempting to defenestrate them. Conway hurried over, pulling up his arm and bringing his elbow down on her neck to take her out, but Annie still fell out. Conway launched himself out the window after, hurtling down and catching Annie and pulling them into his arms. He pulled something out of the back of his pants-- his trenchcoat, folded and hidden in his buttocks area. He didn't have time to put it on but he had time to wrap it around them so the impact was winding and slightly painful but most importantly: not deadly.

They groaned together, both choosing to stay on the ground while handling the shock. Annie smoothed back their dark natural hair and propped themselves up on one arm to look at Conway staring up at the moon-- a familiar feeling after weeks previous at the Intex raid.

“I think you should go with Agent Freefall,” Annie joked, apparently already recovered from the adrenaline rush.

“I wouldn’t want to falsely advertise my willingness to jump off buildings coatless.”

They laughed a bit, the tension washed away nicely. And then Annie laid a kiss on Conway’s stubbly cheek.

“Thanks for saving my ass. I’ll leave you to handle our suspect and you can have my part of the pay too, as thanks.”

“Eh, oh,” Conway blinked. He didn’t need that, and he would have said so but Annie was getting up and leaving already. He stammered out the big question, “Hey, are you gonna leave without telling me your real name?”

They chuckled. “I’ll give you one better. My agent profile and contact info is on the East Point directory, number 7592. Ciao, Conway.”

Conway immediately plugged their address into his PDA and looked up their profile. Their list of references was massive, no surprise. But what was really interesting was their listed name. He looked around but the mysterious person in the black dress was gone.

“ _Hightower_?!” Conway puzzled. He knew what that should have meant but his first instinct was to disregard it. It had to be another Hightower right? One that had also worked with Fritz Gessler and had him on their resume. Of course? A new piece of informational text popped up on their page literally as he was reading it.

_No hard feelings, Agent Freefall?_

 


End file.
